This Place Is Nuts, 2014
"Hey," with an excited whine, "come-on in."
Avoiding breath,
a human nose presents such an invitation as mockery.
"Watch your step-up," he says,
looking down at the tops of his Almond-colored Fryes, "there yah go, see - it's kinda tricky."
Stuffed in the space separating a dry,
potted Asarum caudatum and what I undoubtedly think is soiled laundry, but is in fact an opened sack of Fertilizer,
rests a shoe-shined-glossy, Cashew-colored Miniature Pinscher. Kowtowing, it's jerking-head throws forward and down, catching only dust, and violently whips backward again.
"That's Redwing," he tells me, as he removes a Parliament Light from it's package. A second time, looking more to me now like the plunger of a darkened syringe, Redwing's snout careens downward
toward his testicles. At speed, his eyes swell from their sockets, 1/16" or more; mucous from his nose had dewed his Soy Nut-colored belly hair.
"Nice place," I deflect. "Very cool."

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